


A Midsummer Night's Dream

by Annariel



Category: Midsummer Night's Dream - Shakespeare, Primeval
Genre: Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, F/M, M/M, Magic Made Them Do It, Women Being Awesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2013-06-21
Packaged: 2017-12-15 14:56:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annariel/pseuds/Annariel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Urban Fantasy AU.  An anomaly on midsummer night can not bode well.  Nick, revelling in the season, is eager to investigate.  Lester has reservations but he can't prevent most of the team following Nick into the grounds of a deserted mill.  Once there, the wild magic of midsummer, works its spell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Act 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fredbassett](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fredbassett/gifts), [lukadreaming (LJ)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=lukadreaming+%28LJ%29).



> **Warning Elaboration:** If you are mixing it up with romance and magic you invariably skirt fairly close to a number of issues to do with consent. These are gently tip-toed around in what follows. The characters _are_ aware of the issues, but never overtly confront or acknowledge them.
> 
>  **Thanks:** To fififolle (LJ) for beta-reading.
> 
> This owes at least something to [Contagious Fogs](http://archiveofourown.org/works/595076) by Naraht, which you should read if you're at all interested in Midsummer Night's Dream AUs. Her prose is better than mine as well.

How now, spirit! whither wander you?

The last lingering rays of sunset burned the remains of Turton's Mill a deep red. Tumbled bricks lay strewn among dusty grasses, clumps of buddleia, a litter of barbed wire, used condoms and abandoned shopping trolleys. It was midsummer and night was closing in.

Stephen dropped down nimbly from the top of the high metal gate and surveyed the scene before him. 

"This place is a death trap."

"Aye, well, there's an anomaly here somewhere." Nick climbed down next to him, with considerably less grace, and brushed his hands together. He regarded the tumble-down landscape with a shrewd eye.

Stephen pulled a battered Ordnance Survey map out of his coat pocket and squinted at it in the dying light. "I'm pretty sure there's a fence all around this place. We could leave it until morning."

"And let Lester's goons and their big guns get in before us? Oh no, my lad!"

Nick grinned at him infectiously. He pulled a heavy looking torch out of his own coat pocket, switched it on and then set out confidently along a nettle strewn path.

Stephen frowned and followed more cautiously. "They won't come in tonight. It's midsummer."

"That too," said Nick quietly.

Stephen watched him. Nick crested a small rise so that his form was silhouetted against the sunset. It was all right for Nicholas Cutter. He would be in his element at midsummer, and Stephen was half sure that the professor's eagerness for the adventure was motivated largely by the date. On the other hand, nothing good could come of an anomaly at midsummer and there were few who could handle it better than Nick Cutter could. It was the rest of them that Stephen was worried about.

* * *

Lester, leaning over the balcony rail, high up in the ARC, like the eagle in its nest, was concerned to see the anomaly team gathering their equipment together on the floor below.

"You are all aware it's midsummer?" The acoustics of the atrium carried his words, bright and clear, down to the people below. 

"Well, yeah!" Connor Temple shouted up at him. "But Stephen and Cutter have already gone to the site."

Lester pinched the bridge of his nose and counted quietly to ten. Of course Professor Cutter had gone to the site. It was an anomaly at midsummer. It would probably have taken an entire platoon of SAS soldiers, not to mention an industrial strength enchantment, to keep him out. Lester really should have guessed and done something about the situation earlier.

"Does counting to ten help?" Jenny asked. Lester hadn't heard her approach, nor had he thought he was counting loudly enough to be audible. Still, Jenny was the closest thing to a sane employee, not to mention an ally, that he had in this place so he would pay to be polite.

"The counting doesn't really help, no. But my hedge witch recommends it. Do you know _why_ , specifically, Cutter and Stephen are anomaly chasing on midsummer's eve?"

"I can make a few guesses, but you won't like any of them."

"I was afraid you might say that." Lester glanced down at the group assembled in the atrium. Ryan was helping Connor and Abby load their equipment into a Land Rover that had been parked in the centre of the atrium.

"Is Captain Ryan going with them?" Lester asked.

"You want to stop him?"

"No, I suppose not. I can't ask any of the other soldiers to do anything until dawn and Quinn is on leave."

"Obviously," Jenny said dryly.

"Well, yes, obviously. At any rate, if anyone can keep that lot out of trouble, Ryan can. I couldn't have ordered him to go, but I won't stop him volunteering."

Lester sighed and glanced sideways at Jenny. Her make-up was as perfect as ever and her high heels shone bright red in a stark contrast to the low level blue light that suffused the ARC.

"Jenny, I hate to ask you..."

She smiled, her lips a red gash across her face. "Don't worry, I'll tag along, at least as far as the car park."

"I suppose I had better come as well."

She looked sympathetic. "There won't be anything you can do."

"Probably not, but I'll feel better if I'm close by."

They both looked down into the atrium. The Land Rover was almost loaded. Ryan had commandeered the keys against the protests of both Connor and Abby, who were now fighting over who had the middle seat.

Lester tried counting to ten a second time.

* * *

They were deep inside the ancient mill. It was pitch dark and Stephen was using his own torch to guide his footsteps. Shapes towered out of the darkness, ancient wooden looms with, in some cases, threads still hanging from them like the fronds of some trailing plant.

"Ill met by moonlight, Nicholas Cutter." Helen's voice was silky smooth and as seductive as ever. 

Stephen swung the torch around in a panic, to reveal Helen lounging by the side of a broken loom, one arm wrapped around the single remaining upright support.

"Jealous, Helen?" Cutter asked. There was a tone of contempt in his voice that Stephen had not heard before. It seemed Helen's hold on him was finally beginning to wane, both bed and company long forsworn.

Helen pouted ever so slightly, and sashayed forwards, her hips swinging suggestively as she moved, like a cat stalking its prey. Her dark eyes were fixed upon Nick, and Stephen was grateful to avoid her attention.

"Jealous of that red-lipped harridan of a Public Relations Officer you are wont to have trailing around after you? I think not! Such a brassy, painted doll. The attraction will fade fast, you know. You never liked the artificial."

Stephen could see a muscle clenching quietly in Nick's jaw, but he didn't rise to Helen's bait, even as she pressed her body against his and stared up into his face, her eyes wide and full of innocence.

"It is eight years since you were my wife," Nick finally said, a little huskily. "We could have discovered the anomalies together. We could have worked together to study them, to protect people from them. But you chose another course. Now everything between us is strife and discord."

"Do you amend it then? It lies with you." Helen was still curled up against Nick but her glance now slid sideways towards Stephen and his blood froze in his veins. "He was my apprentice after all," she said.

Nick's face curled up, half in a sneer and half in surprise. "You abandoned him and now he is under my protection."

"I have his mark, signed in blood." Helen's hand reached into her bosom pulling forth the vellum scroll upon which, long years past, Stephen had signed away his freedom.

"You long ago renounced any right to him." Nick pushed her back, one hand gripped tightly around Helen's wrist. "There are laws these days, you know. You abandoned him and now he is free."

"In law," Helen spat.

"And by rights."

Helen's eyebrows twitched and then she blew gently across the scroll. Stephen felt his blood enflame, a sensation he had almost forgotten in the intervening years. His viewpoint narrowed upon Helen, standing there in all her lithe and primal beauty. He staggered a step towards her, a low moan deep in his throat.

"Careful lad," Nick's voice sounded gentle and firm in his ears. 

Nick's hand fell upon his shoulder and the enchantment fled. Helen hissed.

"Give me the boy, and I will stay with thee."

"Not for thy primeval kingdom," Nick threw back.

Helen crouched once, strained as if to fight, and then she turned and was gone. Her light footfalls sounded on the wooden planks that formed the floor.

Stephen bit his lip. "She's not going to give up easily."

"I never thought she would." Nick smiled reassuringly. "Come, we have an anomaly to find."

* * *

Lester watched as Connor, Abby and Ryan bickered over how to break in to the abandoned mill. The surrounding fence was several metres high and spikes, sharp and long and black as night, stuck out of it at irregular intervals.

"I very much doubt anything is getting out of there until morning," Lester couldn't help commenting.

"That's not really the point though, sir," Ryan said.

"Stephen's within," Abby pointed out.

"And Nick," Connor added.

Lester glanced at their eager faces and then turned to the soldier. "Captain Ryan, a word."

Ryan gave him a thoughtful look and then walked away from the younger pair.

"Sir?" he asked.

"Captain Ryan, I am aware of your relationship with Mr. Hart." Lester watched as Ryan's face fell into a carefully schooled neutrality. "Captain, he is with Professor Cutter who is probably, tonight of all nights, in a far better position to protect him than you are. The three of you will be largely defenseless. If you venture into a wasteland like that on your own, who can say what strange happenings may come to pass?"

"There are no signs that the place is particularly magical, sir."

Lester glanced over at the gothic ironmongery that surrounded the bleak outline of the mill. It stood, dark and sinister, framed against the midsummer moon. 

"Not particularly magical? You think so?" Lester queried.

Ryan glanced at the twisted metal and the desolate ruin. "Not particularly, sir. Besides I doubt you can stop Temple and Maitland breaking in, and they really will be safer if I'm with them."

Lester sighed inwardly. Ryan most definitely had a point.

"Keep safe, and be careful what you do."

"I'll be careful."

Ryan walked back to the others and hauled a grappling hook and rope out of one of the supply bags. Jenny appeared at Lester's side with a thermos and a mug of coffee.

"A last ditch attempt to dissuade them?" she asked.

"Something like that."

"Did it work?"

"What do you think? Come your ways, we may as well wait in the car for this folly to resolve itself."

* * *

Connor struggled awkwardly down the rope on the far side of the gate. He swung his torch around in a wide arc: tumble-down building, chimney, rusted bicycle, shopping trolley, a discarded leather boot. He stumbled down a small heap of rubble. 

"Where now? I see nothing!" Abby's voice echoed in the darkness.

"The mill building, I reckon. We'd see an anomaly if it was out here somewhere," Connor replied.

They began cautiously picking their way across the litter and rubble. 

"Do you think Stephen will be all right?" It wasn't the first time Abby had asked.

"He's with Cutter. He should be fine. I'm more worried about us, if we don't find them quickly," Ryan admitted.

That didn't really reassure Connor much. Deep down he knew he was only here because Abby was, and the fact she was probably only here because of Stephen depressed him intensely. He knew he followed Abby around like a patient spaniel, and even when she vented her irritation upon him, yet still, unworthy as he was, he followed her.

As if sensing his thoughts Abby turned and frowned at him in the pale light of the his torch. "No use waiting around then," she said.

She turned back and marched onwards in the direction of Turton's Mill.

* * *

Helen crouched down before the witch light of the anomaly, the threads from a dozen dead looms clutched in her hands, ready for the weaving.

"What are you up to then?"

Helen glanced up to see the Quinn perched on the top of a tumbled brick wall. His feet were bare of shoes. His grin was wide, feral and dangerous.

"Mischief, if you must know," said Helen.

"Sounds like my sort of thing," returned the Quinn. "Go on, spill."

"I need a distraction to torment Nick Cutter."

The Quinn whistled quietly through his teeth. "Well now, I quite like Nick Cutter."

"In which case, you won't object if I restore his Claudia to him," Helen muttered, still weaving with her hands.

The Quinn chuckled long and loud. "Now that is my kind of mischief. Shall I run and fetch him hither?"

"If you will."

* * *

They were deep inside the interior of the abandoned mill now. Connor could smell dust, and damp and growing things. They stumbled through twisting corridors, the lights of their torches revealing red brick, empty windows and anonymous abandoned metal plates and grilles. Then, suddenly, they stumbled through an open doorway into a room which must once have had large floor to ceiling windows. A cool breeze flowed through the empty space and stars shone in empty voids where glass, now gone, had once served protection against wind and rain.

"There you are." Cutter's voice rang out in the echoing silence.

Connor almost jumped out of his skin.

"You startled me," he said, attempting to explain the undignified squeak he had emitted.

"Are you OK, Stephen?" Abby placed worried hands on Stephen's chest, and he stepped backwards.

"Mostly, but Helen's around here and she's up to something," Stephen said nervously.

"Several somethings, I'll warrant," said Cutter. "Captain Ryan, can you take Stephen and get him out of here? I don't know exactly what Helen has in mind but it clearly involves him and I don't like that. I would have him out of harm's way."

"Cutter," Stephen began.

"No arguments, you're no match for Helen and you know it. I'll be easier in my mind if I know you're safe."

"What about us?" Connor asked, gesturing between himself and Abby.

"You two come with me, we've still got an anomaly to find."

* * *

Outside the mill, the piles of rubbish and rubble formed great valleys and cliffs. Ryan felt an ominous fear clench at his heart.

"Bugger," muttered Stephen, looking around them.

Ryan checked the compass on his tac vest. He tapped it once but the needle was steady. "This still seems to be working. As long as we keep in a straight line we'll hit the fence eventually."

"Easier said than done," Stephen said setting off into a twisting canyon of discarded tyres and abandoned dustbins.

"Do you think Helen is really after you?" Ryan couldn't help asking.

Stephen paused, his hands on his hips. "Yes, I felt it in there. I don't know what game she's playing, but she means to steal me back and I don't have the strength to resist her, not a second time, not tonight."

Ryan reached out instinctively and squeezed Stephen's shoulder, an intimacy they rarely allowed themselves on the job, but then this wasn't exactly on the job.

"Bloody Cutter," Ryan couldn't help saying. "Couldn't he wait until morning?"

"I doubt it. Midsummer's like a drug. He could no more wait to investigate the anomaly than a smack-head can put off his next fix."

"Bloody Cutter," Ryan said again, with emphasis.

"We should keep going," Stephen insisted and they headed out into the wilderness.

* * *

The anomaly, when they found it, was in a small side room that had once been a lean-to. One corner of the walls had collapsed and the roof had long since fallen in, leaving it open to the elements. Above them the great panoply of the heavens looked down upon the glittering anomaly, as if it were a star fallen to earth.

Connor had monitoring equipment in his backpack and they set it up, not that Connor necessarily expected to get good readings from an anomaly on midsummer's night. Still it was something to do. He handed a magnetometer to Abby, but she stood listlessly with it in her hand, a vague expression on her face. Her thoughts and concerns were elsewhere.

"Stephen will be fine. He's got Ryan with him now," Connor said encouragingly. 

Abby rewarded him with a small, wan smile, but then turned back to the magnetometer.

Cutter paced up and down, muttering under his breath and glancing at the anomaly from time to time.

"Do you think Stephen likes me?" Abby asked suddenly, with a plaintive note in her voice.

Connor gulped. "'Course he does, what makes you think otherwise?"

"You know, _like_ likes me."

Connor shrugged, avoiding the question. Obviously Stephen was dead handsome, he'd noticed that, and Abby was beautiful so, on one level they sort of made sense together. On the other hand there was Ryan, but Connor had been sworn to secrecy on that count so he could hardly tell Abby that Stephen was already spoken for.

"He's been sending some pretty mixed signals," Abby mused.

"Tell me about it," Connor muttered bitterly, thinking more of his own relationship with Abby than Abby's with Stephen.

"What?" Cutter broke into their conversation.

Connor looked up, surprised. "Nothing, just, you know, gossiping." He grinned weakly at Cutter and nudged Abby with his shoulder.

She looked up and managed a smile for Cutter as well. "Yeah, just chatting, nothing important."

Cutter frowned at them both and then circled the anomaly restlessly. Connor watched him pace.

"Stay here," said Cutter suddenly. "There's something I need to do."

"But..." Connor started to say, waving his hands in the air to suggest _Midsummer's Night_ and _Helen_ , or at least that was the intention.

"I'll be back soon," Cutter added.

"We'll be fine," Abby said.

"Abby!" Connor couldn't help hissing.

Abby reached out and squeezed his hand. "Just for a few minutes, yeah?" she asked Cutter.

"Aye, just for a few minutes."

"OK then," said Connor cautiously.

Cutter nodded and then left the small ring of light that danced around the anomaly.

* * *

Cutter had sensed the Quinn's presence as soon as he entered the environs of the mill. He wandered the corridors now, calling out to him. Nevertheless the Quinn managed to creep up behind him unheard and then tap him on the shoulder.

Cutter controlled his irritation when he turned to find the man lounging against a broken window frame.

"You called," said the Quinn.

"I want you to do something about Connor and Abby," Cutter said getting swiftly to the point. "It's getting ridiculous."

The Quinn shrugged. "They'll figure it out for themselves sooner or later. Best to let them get on with it."

"It's distracting everyone. Stephen's gay. It's about time Abby stopped pining and saw what was under her nose..." Cutter tailed off.

Through the window behind the Quinn, he could see a figure; a ghost in white. Cutter strained to see the details.

When he glanced back, the Quinn was looking uncharacteristically serious. "Abby will figure it out eventually."

Cutter snorted, his eyes drawn once more to the form out in the wastes beyond the mill's walls. "She's like a blonde pixie, you have to point things out to them." He waved a hand distractedly at the Quinn. "Just get her to notice that underneath all that bumbling idiotic geekiness, Connor has a lot going for him."

The Quinn straightened up and his mouth twitched into a mischievous smile. "Blonde pixies to fancy Connor, got it. Check."

Cutter blinked, the back of his mind telling him that the details were wrong here. Then he looked out the window once more. He had more important things to worry about. There might have been a lot of mischief in the Quinn, but there was no malice.

He gave the Quinn a long look. "Effect it with some care."

Then Cutter hurried along the corridor, looking for a way out through the walls and into the maze of canyons beyond, chasing the shining vision he saw through the windows.

* * *

Lester checked the wards on the car for the seventh or eighth time that evening and then glanced sideways at Jenny, who was sitting in the passenger seat sipping coffee from her apparently bottomless thermos flask.

"You're worried," she observed.

Lester waved impotently at the steel fence that surrounded the mill. It now stretched up higher than he could see and was twisted into a good approximation to a wall of thorns.

Jenny remained silent and took another sip of coffee.

"You're worried too, or you wouldn't be here," Lester observed.

She flashed him a small smile and a discreet sideways glance. "Wild magic isn't my area, but something is definitely brewing tonight."

Lester turned his gaze back on the twisting metal. "That is what I was afraid of."

Jenny appeared to reach a decision, putting her thermos on the back seat and smoothing invisible creases out of her pencil skirt.

"I think I should go in."

Lester was startled. "Wild magic isn't your area."

Jenny's lips were a splash of red. "I don't think it's wild magic I have to worry about."

She opened the side door and stepped out, surveying the area from beyond the protection of the Home Office wards. Then she leaned in and looked at him seriously. "Stay in the car until morning, James."

"I had absolutely no intention of doing otherwise," he said with heartfelt sincerity.

She nodded, straightened her skirt and then marched boldly towards the fence. The great gates opened to let her in. Lester watched her red heels flashing resolutely as she stalked into the grounds beyond.


	2. Act 2

"Blondes," the Quinn muttered to himself with amusement as he worked his magic.

* * *

"Well?" asked Stephen, watching as Ryan stared glumly at his compass.

Ryan sighed. "The canyons are moving us in bloody circles. If we want to get out of here, we're going to have to do a fuck tonne of climbing and scrambling."

Stephen stared morosely at the almost sheer wall of rubble and scrap that blocked their route on one side.

"Back inside and hope to find Cutter?" he asked.

"I'm afraid it's our best option. The land around here is against us and no mistake." Ryan looked distinctly unhappy but there really wasn't much to be done about it.

Stephen slipped a hand into his and they set off back towards the mill building.

* * *

"Blonds," the Quinn said again and giggled.

* * *

Cutter had been gone for ages. Connor shivered in his coat and wished the professor would return. Abby was withdrawn, her eyes darting nervously towards the door. Connor had tried chattering to keep her amused but somehow had ended up expounding his personal theory on the meaning of the 1960s show, _The Prisoner_ , and he knew she wasn't interested. It was just he couldn't think of anything else to say and it was easier, somehow, to just keep babbling about the symbolism inherent in penny farthings.

There was a sound somewhere just beyond the wall to their room, if room you could call it, with no roof and a huge great anomaly leading who knew where in the centre.

"Abby, did you hear that?" Connor asked.

"What?"

"I thought I heard a noise, something's out there." Connor got anxiously to his feet, "Where's Ryan and his big gun when you need him, eh?"

"Run through fire, I would, if you but say!"

Ryan burst through the open doorway. Connor was dimly aware that Stephen was lurking somewhere behind Ryan but his attention was mostly taken up with the way Ryan was bearing down upon him, a look of ardent passion in his eyes. Instinctively Connor glanced from side to side to see if there was someone else standing near him.

There definitely wasn't. In fact, Ryan was obviously looking at him, because Ryan grabbed him by the lapels of his coat, pushed him up against the bare brick wall and snogged him senseless.

Which, Connor had to admit, wasn't an entirely unwelcome experience, if a little surprising.

"Ummm, Ryan," he managed as Ryan briefly came up for air. "Are you taking the piss?"

"Ryan!" Stephen called from the far side of the room and there was an edge to his voice that Connor couldn't quite work out.

"No, I am most definitely not taking the piss! _You_ are amazing!" Ryan said and then kissed him again.

Connor managed to squirm out from underneath the kiss.

"Look, Ryan, I'm really flattered an' all, but aren't you?" Connor tried to gesture knowingly with his eyes towards Stephen.

Ryan glanced briefly in Stephen's direction and then turned back to Connor. "I've absolutely no bloody idea what I was thinking when I took up with Stephen."

He lunged forwards again but this time Connor dodged and took shelter behind Abby who was standing watching the scene with an open mouth. Connor sneaked a look across at Stephen who was a mirror image of Abby, standing stock still with his mouth open.

"Yeah, Ryan mate, I'm not sure you know what you're thinking now, no offence."

Ryan gestured towards Abby. "Abby loves Stephen, and she loves not you."

In front of him Abby shuddered as if suddenly coming out of a daze. Then instantly she spun around, twining her arms around Connor's neck. "Oh Connor! Godlike, stud, perfect, divine."

Her lips pressed up against his and he had to admit it was as good as kissing Ryan, better even, but then he backed up.

"Wait, is this some kind of joint joke? Let's all laugh at the geek." 

He glanced around desperately at the three people.

"Nothing to do with me," Stephen said suddenly. He looked a little sick, but spread his hands out placatingly.

Connor squirmed his way out from under Abby and took refuge behind Stephen.

"Can't you at least call Ryan off?" he asked plaintively.

"Ryan, stop fooling around. We're looking for Cutter remember?" Stephen said loudly and firmly.

"Out of my way Stephen." Ryan had that scary sexy look in his eyes, but to do Stephen credit, he stood his ground.

"You're having us on right, love?" Stephen said uncertainly.

"Yeah, leave off, Ryan. You've got dibs on Stephen it seems, so hands off Connor." Abby placed herself suddenly and firmly between Stephen and Ryan.

"You've more than had your chance with Connor, and you blew it, young lady. You can have Stephen. Connor, come over here, can't you see you're wasting your time pining after her."

"Bastard!" Abby said suddenly and stamped rather firmly on Ryan's foot.

"It's like that, is it!" Ryan lunged for Abby but she dodged nimbly out of his way.

"First one to the gates, gets to keep Connor!" she shouted and then she was off, out through the gap in the wall, running fleet footed across the bricks and rubble.

"I'll win this race for you, fair Connor!" Ryan declared and, to Connor's surprise, the soldier grabbed his hand and kissed it and then he was off after Abby.

"That was all a bit strange," Connor began, only to find Stephen now had him pinned against the wall, a snarl of fury on his face.

"Are you a mage, Connor? Is that what this is about? Have you been hiding it all this time?"

"No Stephen, honest! I've no idea what's going on. Well, magic obviously," Connor frowned. It hadn't occurred to him in the excitement of the previous moments, but in retrospect it was obvious that both Ryan and Abby were under some kind of enchantment.

"Magic, _obviously_ ," Stephen's voice dripped with scorn. "And whose magic, pray tell? Because that isn't the simple wild magic of midsummer's night, that was deliberate and directed."

"Hey, you're Cutter's apprentice, not me," Connor complained, not without some bitterness because he would have really liked to be Cutter's apprentice.

"I'm wise to you now, Connor Temple, in fact I think I'd better bind you until this night is over."

"Nope! Don't do that! Definitely a bad idea." Being bound wasn't pleasant at the best of times, but definitely not on midsummer, when it might be downright dangerous.

"You can't stop me."

"Well, you have to catch me first!" Connor took a leaf out of Abby's book and stamped down hard on Stephen's foot. Stephen recoiled in surprise and Connor darted for the door, hoping that he could lose himself in amongst the waste outside.

* * *

Stephen took a deep breath. He could feel the magic thick in the air. Pulling it about him he darted towards the door in pursuit of Connor, only to come short, face to face with Helen.

Her smile was distinctly predatory.

"Ah Stephen, a timely encounter," she purred.

Stephen took a single, deep panicked breath as she laid her hand on his chest. He felt the blood pounding in his veins and his reason receding.

"Has Cutter left you all alone, and on midsummer's night?" Helen made a gentle tutting sound. Her lips brushed across his, light and tempting. "I would look after you so much better than Nick, all it would take is a little thing, like a signature reaffirming your apprenticeship."

"Which would be completely invalid if given while he was under an enchantment," interrupted a voice.

Stephen looked up in surprise, his mind suddenly clear once more, to see Jenny standing on top of the mound of dust and grass where the fourth wall of the room had once stood. Jenny's red shoes were a splash of colour in the dull blues of the moonlit night. Her suit was immaculate and her hands were on her hips.

Helen actually hissed.

"Err.. Hi Jenny," Stephen said.

Jenny stalked down the mound towards them, her high heels tapping on the bricks and stones.

"Stephen is my apprentice," Helen squared up to Jenny and Stephen could sense the enchantments in the air.

Jenny walked right through them, as if Helen's protections were nothing but tissue paper. Eventually she was standing directly in front of Helen, her bright red lips drawn into a tight line. The two women stared each other in the eyes for a moment and then Jenny said, "Leave. Him. Alone."

The air crackled slightly, then, abruptly, Helen turned on her heels and marched away, vanishing into the night.

"Are you all right?" Jenny asked kindly.

Stephen pantomimed checking his limbs for breakages. "All in one piece."

Her eyes ran over him, "and free of enchantments, I see."

"Yeah, I'm not so sure Ryan and Abby are though. I think Connor did something."

Jenny laughed out loud at that. "I find that pretty hard to believe. No, I suspect other forces may be playing with them."

Stephen felt himself flush. "I may need to apologise to Connor in that case."

Jenny bit her lip and glanced around with the slightly harried air of a woman with too many things to do. 

"I suppose I ought to find the others and keep an eye on them," Stephen offered.

Jenny narrowed her eyes slightly, but obviously decided to believe him because she gave a brief nod. She sketched a slight sigil in the air with one raised finger and then pressed it gently against his shoulder. Stephen felt his flesh tingle where the ward settled.

"Will that help?" he asked.

Jenny's smile was secretive. "I have a good idea who is working most of the magic around here, so hopefully yes. Now go and find the others and try to stop them hurting themselves."

Stephen nodded and headed out in the direction he had last seen Connor and his admirers. Jenny sashayed deeper into the mill, her hips swinging as she walked.

* * *

The heart of the mill was the old factory floor where the looms had once clattered ceaselessly, making the cloth that had helped build an empire. Jenny wasn't entirely surprised to find the Quinn waiting for her, perched on the top of a loom that was still more or less intact.

A path of flowers, deep purple in colour, led from the foot of one loom and off into the interior. Jenny paused just short of them.

"I assume you are responsible for all the kerfuffle with Ryan and Abby," she said dryly.

The Quinn grinned and jumped down from the top of the loom. His bare feet made hardly a sound on the wooden floor. His arm looped easily around her waist. "How well you know me," he quipped.

"I want it sorted out," she said.

His eyebrows quirked. "I'm not yours to command, you know."

Jenny just raised her own eyebrows back at him and gave him a level stare.

The Quinn laughed again. "Fine, fine, I'll sort them out."

Jenny smiled and glanced down at the parade of small purple flowers. "Are these yours as well? Love-in-idleness are they not?"

The Quinn shook his head. "No, they belong to someone else entirely. In fact, you seem to know more about them than I."

Jenny looked down again and let her eye be drawn along the length of the pathway. The flowers wound between the looms and out through a darkened door.

"It doesn't have to be this way you know," the Quinn said, and his arm drew her closer.

Jenny smiled at him a little sadly. "I think it probably does. You are already spoken for, you know."

The Quinn grinned cheekily back at her. "Oh well, plenty more fish in the sea, as they say, and I'm well content with the fish I already have. But I had hopes there was room for a little flexibility." He waggled his eyebrows.

"You," she said, "are incorrigible! Off with you!"

His lips brushed briefly against hers and then he let her go. 

"I'd take those heels off, if I were you though," he added.

"Quinn! Shoo!"

"I go! I go!" he said and bounded away into the darkness. "Swifter than an arrow!" his final shout echoed in the air.

Jenny grinned to herself and pulled off her bright red heels. Holding them in one hand she stepped her stockinged feet out onto the carpet of purple and let the flowers lead her where they would.

* * *

"Up and down and up and down," Quinn murmured to himself as he sprung from brick to paving slab, to tyre, to the branches of the odd small scrubby tree that somehow strived to survive.

He slid down a slope amid a flurry of scree and dust and pulled up short, eye to eye with Ryan's confused face.

"On the ground, sleep sound," the Quinn muttered and Ryan dropped where he stood.

* * *

"Danny, what are you doing here?" Stephen demanded in surprise. 

Then he took in the Quinn's appearance, the bare feet and the wild gleam in his eyes.

"Quinn!" Stephen said, as sternly as he could.

"Don't worry about me, I'm almost done." The Quinn grinned and brushed past his shoulder. "You'll find lover boy just round that heap of scrap. Look after him, he's sleeping tight, methinks he's had a busy night."

"Quinn!" Stephen exploded but the Quinn was already leaping away, vanishing into the dark.

"Can't stop," the Quinn's voice echoed back cheerfully, "the Earth revolves. Places to go, enchantments to dissolve."

* * *

Cutter was standing by the anomaly, gazing around him in wonder and surprise.

"Jenny!" he cried out when he saw her. "What visions I have seen, methought I saw.." and then he tailed away and blushed.

Jenny resisted the temptation to tut. At least while Claudia was watching. She contented herself with gesturing towards the half visible shape of her doppelganger. Purple flowers bloomed around its feet.

Cutter turned and his eyes widened. His mouth opened as if to say something then it shut again. He turned back towards Jenny. The purple mist of love-in-idleness swirled around his feet.

Jenny glanced at Claudia. The shade smiled briefly then walked towards the anomaly. At the threshold she paused, glancing one final time over her shoulder at Cutter and then she vanished silently, merging into the faery light.

Cutter came towards Jenny across the purple flowers and pulled her into his arms. The air was heavy with the scents of jasmine and honeysuckle. Jenny breathed deep as his lips met hers.

* * *

Connor had managed to lose Ryan somewhere, for which he was mostly grateful, but Abby was proving harder to shake. Connor had a nasty suspicion she had a talent for tracking that might rival Stephen's own one day.

"Connor, Connor! Where are you?" Abby called.

Connor had squeezed himself into a narrow gap behind an abandoned wardrobe and a thick buddleia. He held his breath, willing Abby to move on, but suddenly she rounded the edge of the wardrobe. Her face lit up at the sight of him and Connor's heart sank, because he would have given anything for that expression to have been genuine.

"Found you," she said, husky and low.

"Come hither: I am here!" It was almost a perfect imitation of Connor's own voice. 

Abby's eyes glazed over a moment and then she turned away from him, looking around wildly.

"Coward, why comest thou not?" This time it was Ryan's voice that echoed over the wasteland.

Cautiously Connor sidled out from around the wardrobe. He was torn between a desire to make his escape and anxiety that some other enchantment was about to capture Abby.

"And sleep." This time it was Danny's voice.

Connor was just in time to catch Abby as she slumped. He laid her gently down on the ground.

"That all went pretty well, I think." 

Connor looked up to see Danny standing over them. "Did you do this?" he demanded.

The Quinn chuckled. "Don't fret, all now is well, and I've had great sport in the meantime."

Connor sighed. There was clearly no point getting angry with the Quinn at midsummer.

The Quinn pointed. "Don't take on so," he admonished and leaned down to kiss Connor, firm and dry.

"Quinn, I've had a really tough few hours," Connor objected.

The Quinn's fingers caressed his cheek gently, but there was a sympathetic smile on his face. "Everyone is turning me down tonight."

"It's almost dawn," Connor said quietly, "and I expect your own lover is waiting."

The Quinn raised his head, as if listening for the dawn. "That he is and the night will soon be gone. I hear the morning lark."

Connor waved him away, Abby still sleeping in his arms. "Trip away then."

The Quinn laughed out loud and then he was gone.

* * *

Ryan blinked sleepily awake to find he was resting in Stephen's lap. Above them the sky was a pale grey, heralding the imminent arrival of the dawn. Stephen stirred as he raised himself up.

"How now?" Stephen asked.

"I have a nasty feeling I owe you an apology."

"You have been a very, bad boy," Stephen's voice held more of promise than reprimand.

"Oh I have," Ryan agreed happily.

* * *

Connor and Abby were sitting on a dilapidated park bench as dawn finally broke. A chaste few centimetres separating them.

"So," said Abby, as bright reds and pinks filled the sky. "Stephen's gay."

"Yeah, he is."

"How long have you known?"

"A few weeks, I walked in on him and Ryan by mistake, but he swore me to secrecy."

Abby nodded but didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry," Connor ventured.

"Not your fault. I'm the one who's been making a fool of myself all this time."

"You weren't making a fool of yourself," Connor began hurriedly.

Abby sighed and gave a small sad smile. "No, I have been. I was chasing something I couldn't have and all the time not noticing, really, what was right under my nose."

"Eh?" Connor felt he'd lost track of the conversation somewhere.

Abby elbowed him in the ribs. "You, you idiot!"

"Me? what?"

She gave an exaggerated sigh and then leaned forwards, draping her arms around his neck to kiss him.

"What? wait? Are you still under an enchantment?"

"No." She drew back slightly and smiled at him. "In fact I think I'm just coming to my senses. My love for Stephen has melted as the snow. All the faith, the virtue of my heart, the object and the pleasure of mine eye, is only Connor."

Connor felt himself blush. "Mine own."

* * *

Nick stretched slightly as the thin warmth of the sun's early morning rays fell upon him. Jenny was curled asleep by his side. Her hair, loose of its tight bun, flowed across his chest. Above them a riot of roses and clematis curled around a small arch that had once supported the roof.

Nick smiled. It was going to be a good day.

* * *

Lester's eyes were heavy as he watched the dawn break. He'd long finished the coffee and he was cold, tired and irritated. His mood wasn't helped when the Quinn climbed nimbly over the factory gate and dropped to the ground.

Lester watched as the man sauntered towards the car. He felt himself sigh. The Quinn opened the door and slipped into the passenger seat, his customary grin lurking around the corners of his mouth.

"I suppose you have been enjoying yourself," Lester said wearily.

Quinn clucked reprovingly. "I sorted out a few problems for you, if that's what you mean."

"I very much doubt that. What problems?"

"Oh you know, interpersonal this and interpersonal that. The anomaly team don't half have tangled love lives."

"Tell me something I don't know. I do hope you haven't made things worse."

"Would I do something like that to you?"

"Very probably, if you thought it would be amusing."

Quinn laughed. "Trust me, it'll all be fine."

Lester gave an exaggerated sigh, just so Quinn knew how long-suffering he was. Quinn ignored him but wriggled his bare feet.

"D'you have a spare pair of shoes around here anywhere?"

Lester reached over into the back seat and handed Quinn a Tesco's bag with a pair of socks and trainers in it.

Quinn grinned. "How well you know me."

He paused as he put on his shoes and then held out his palm. "Give me your hand, if we be friends."

Lester took hold of it and let himself be pulled into his lover's embrace.

And Danny then restored amends.


End file.
